


Life in the Vivid Dream

by ladyflamingo



Series: I'm Obsessed with You (But You've Got to Leave Me Alone) [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, No Murder AU, breakups & hookups, but jughead is dead inside, jason is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 00:19:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15960677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyflamingo/pseuds/ladyflamingo
Summary: Jughead takes two steps forward, and eight steps back.





	Life in the Vivid Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in a folder forever, so I decided to read through it and put it up, because I miss this series. Juggy's POV, and his angst makes me laugh. There's also a little Archie/Jughead in there too. For funsies.

He’s trying to sleep, but he can’t. He is tossing and turning, rolling in discomfort until a noise stops him.

 

“Juggy?”

 

Betty and her sweet voice, her hair loose and falling into effortless blonde waves, blue eyes shinning in the darkness, full lips in an adoring smile.

 

“Can’t sleep?” she asks, without necessity, which was odd, because his insomnia is never a problem around Betty Cooper. Her touch and her voice lull him to sleep easily. She moves on top of him, wearing his ’S’ shirt, one of many, one leg on either side on him. They never admit it, but they both love when he sneaks in through her bedroom window, or walks silently through the front door without her family noticing, hands on her while she giggles on their way her room. 

 

He sighs deeply, hands comfortable on her smooth thighs, his smile lazy, he's content.

 

She leans down and kissed him, a hot press on his mouth, a loving hand to his cheek. His body melts into the mattress.

 

“I can put you to bed,” says Cheryl Blossom, seductive like the snake.

 

His eyes fly open, and there she is, long hair perfectly straight, a night gown, red and lacy. Her skin is so pale she glowes like the moon. Jughead looks around, and to his absolute horror and utter confusion, _they are still in Betty’s room,_ in her bed.

 

He opens his mouth to speak, and she silences him with a single crimson nail to his lips.

 

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me,” she whispers in his ear, pressed against him, as he run trembling hands over her body. She's like the supernatural femme fatale of his nightmares, and he's having sex with her in the love of his life's bed, and it's fucked up how much it turns him on, “We both know the truth. Once you can get away with. Twice…” his eyes stutter close with a cite his earlobe, “…and you’re addicted.”

 

And then Jughead Jones entirely too startled for his liking, and entirely too stimulated. He slows down his breathing and squeezes his eyes shut, willing the image of Cheryl Blossom, who was quite literally the spawn of Satan, and her breasts out of his mind. He closes his eyes, frowns deeply, hitting his the back of his head on Archie's floor.

 

_“Dammit.”_

 

—

 

“Betty’s not talking to you,” Archie says, almost conversationally, as if he is informing Jughead about the weather and not stepping all over the pathetic remains of his heart.

 

“Yeah, I got that,” he snaps.

 

Archie makes a face, “ _Sorry._ Ronnie just kept bringing up how fucked up it was for you to have sex with Cheryl like…a day after you broke up—“

 

“About 18 hours, actually,” Jughead sighs miserably, “Not even a day.”

 

“If it makes you feel better, I could pretend to be you?”

 

This has caught Jughead’s interest. They stop at Archie’s locker, where he's numbly putting away and pulling out books, stopping one to pull out a blank sheet of homework and shove it back in, forgotten once more. But now, his best friends has a secret smile on his face, like he knows magic words to make Jughead's world right again, and he is waiting for the moment to reveal them.

 

Jughead, though, isn't one for catch-alls, because he isn't a fucking fool. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, he treads lightly, “How exactly will that make me feel better? I’m very aware of my own plights, I don’t need them presented to me in the form of _theatre,_ Archie.”

 

“I’m gonna do it.”

 

_“Fine.”_

 

Archie is spending too much time with the Pussycats, Jughead concludes quickly, because he aptly takes a deep breath before this performance. He leans against the wall of lockers, and fixes him with the Jughead can only assume was a “Him” Look. “Jughead,” he starts, very matter-of-fact, and the real Jughead rolls his eyes, “You and Betty have been friends for a long time. You dated, you broke up, and it hurt the both of you. Also, jumping into bed with Cheryl Blossom was not a cool move, and probably made Betty think that she matters so little to you, you were good to go with another girl, like a day--

 

"18 hours--"

 

"--18 hours later. But at the end of the day, she broke up with you, and even though you don’t owe her an explanation or apology, if you care, you’re gonna give her both.”

 

Jughead blinks, disturbed.

 

Archie smirks, extremely pleased with himself, and slams his locker shut, “Nailed it.”

 

—

 

But he doesn’t see Betty. Not yet. Instead his path is blocked by the woman of his nightmares. Cheryl Blossom stands like a gatekeeper to the Blue and Gold, and he feels way too familiar with her body now. Jughead is never going to not know what she looks like naked, what she feels like. He’s never going to not know the slide inside of her.

 

She’s going to haunt him sweetly for the rest of his life. He wants to scream in agony.

 

“I was looking for you,” she begins, voice poison/sweet.

 

“Did you think of another way to ruin my life?”

 

She fixes him with a look that says, _you idiot._

 

“You flailing man-child. What exactly are you hung up on? Having sex with me point-five seconds--"

 

"18 hours."

 

" _MyGodfine 18 hours_ after your breakup or that Betty knows about it?” She puts a hand on her cheerleading uniformed hip, after pushing off the door.

 

He narrows his eyes. “No. I’m not playing a game of morality with the devil.”

 

Cheryl smiles, red and full lipped, as if she takes it as a compliment. She should, the devil always wins that game. “Fine. I’m just making sure that you know that technically, we did nothing wrong.”

 

Jughead shake his head, “Nope—“

 

“Because, technically, you were a free man—“

 

“—Not talking about this—“

 

“—And she broke up with you,” she says the last part slowly, and somehow she’s gotten closer, close enough to slide a hand up his chest and into the hair on the nape of his neck, “She broke your sad little heart and you sent the night listening to Elliot Smith with Archie…”

 

“We watched films—”

 

“—You spent the night watching French films with Archie…”

 

He blinks at her. How did she know?

 

“But then,” Cheryl leans in, lips to his ear. And suddenly there is no Betty. There are no people in the hallway. There is only the warmth of her and the memory of that dream, the memory of a alcohol fueled night and a undeniable morning after. “You wanted to feel something else. No can blame you for that. No one owns your body, Jughead. And now, no one owns your heart.”

 

God, she's so incredibly dramatic he wants to _die_. He turns to look at her, all hypnotic eyes and cherry red lips. And he thinks, while Archie did a very good “Him”, he wanted to shut himself up for a minute, just like he shut himself up the night of Polly Cooper and Jason Blossom’s going away party. They stare at each other for a long time, and like this, she was almost captivating, drawing him in like she did that night with simple words.

 

“You’re extremely manipulative,” he told her, softly, curiously, “Like, I didn’t know how much until now. What exactly do you want from me? Sex? A date? You want to be my girlfriend—“

 

She actually laughs out-loud, and he looks up suddenly embarrassed.

 

 _“Your girlfriend?_ I would never go out with a guy who dresses like a teenaged, modern-day Edger Allen Poe—“

 

“—Okay—“

 

“—I mean, seriously, you’re soooo…”

 

He cocked his head, “So…?”

 

Cheryl sighs, and trails her eyes over his body. He'd feel violated, but she's already seen everything, “Hm,” she said dismissively, _“Cliche_. Despite living in a trailer park in the drug-infested cesspool that is the Southside, you dated _Betty Cooper_. And you came here to apologize—“

 

It is Jughead’s time to be amused, but he gives her nothing but a raised eyebrow, “Let me guess. Dumb, sexist jocks are your type? Am I going to see you with Chuck now?”

 

Her eyes darken, “Don’t insult me.”

 

“You insulted me. Besides, I don’t want you. You’re self-centered, entitled, _mean_ , and you’re way too close to your brother.”

 

To be far, Cheryl actually looks innocently confused at that last statement, “What? What do you mean? JJ’s my twin, we can never be too close, we shared a _womb_.”

 

Jesus. Jughead rolls his eyes once more, _“Gross.”_

 

“Shut up!” she says, like the spoiled child he knows she is, “At least I’m not hung up on Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde wrapped in a poodle skirt!”

 

He glares at her. And he just can't help how she affects him, making his blood rise, his heart beat like consecutive claps of thunder. Jughead hates this. He doesn't _like_ her. He doesn't even know for sure if he's attracted to her all the tie, it's more confusing then that time Betty made he and Archie kiss when they were eleven. He used to be so good at ignoring her cheerless blasts, at getting Betty and their friends to ignore them too. But now she's sunk her claws into him, dug holes in his skin and is riding his nerves like she rode his--

 

Fuck's sake.

 

He take a deep breath, and say calmly,body on edge, “I’m walking away now—“

 

 _“—No one walks away from me,“_ she says, dangerously, and something in his shakes. 

 

“I am. I’m walking away, I’m ending this conversation, and we will _never_ have it again.”

 

He backs away from her, very aware that they are too close, and that he could feel her heat, but she, of course, didn't allow that. Of course she didn't. She pulls him in by his jacket, planted a kiss on his lips. And he's being kissed like he’s ever been kissed before, even during some of Betty’s…moods. It's slow, and sensual, and dirty,  _filthy,_ her tongue sliding against his sends a shock straight to his dick. And he kisses her back. And pulls her body close, like a statement, so she can feel him hard against her. But the bell rings, they part suddenly into the sea of students coming out of class, and Jughead, his lips still stained red, walking away, is aware that he was soso _so_ fucked.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I know this isn't a super popular pairing, but I've wanted them together since episode 1. Comments please, let me know what you think!


End file.
